


The sweetest thing

by zation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biblical times, Blasphemous?, Dean wants this too, Desire, First Time, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Bible story, King Castiel, King Castiel gets what King Castiel wants, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in pool, Pining, Pleasure girls, Prompt Fic, Sam opposes this at first, Shy Dean, Sickly Dean, Slight Age Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original prompt: <em>Based on David and Bathsheba with Cas as King David and Dean as Bathsheba and Sam as kind of a Uriah not married to Dean but is unwilling to give his brother to King Castiel</em></p><p>Or,</p><p>The one where Dean and Cas fall head over heels under admittedly quite different conditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sweetest thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is way overdue… Sorry, I hope it’s worth the wait!  
> Okay, so those of you who aren’t as familiar with the original story of King David and Bathsheba (like me, I knew nothing!) and wants to know about it, you can read the gist of it [here](https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+Samuel+11).  
> I have to say, this was a fun one to write and I hope it hits the mark! Thank you for prompting me <3
> 
> Beta read by the darling BeeCas, thank you honey!

  
  


#### I

  


The afternoon was sweltering, the sun beating down mercilessly and not a breeze to be heard of. So maybe it wasn’t so curious to find Castiel out on his balcony, pleasantly cool in the shadow of his palm trees and away from the suffocating heat of his palace.

Yes, sitting here, sipping his sour wine and indulging on figs as his servant fanned him gently seemed like the best idea he had had all day. After a long time holding court and an even longer time sitting in meetings with his counsellors, Castiel certainly deserved some time off. He was the King, after all, and the difference between other people and Kings was foremost that a King could tell people to leave when he felt the need. And oh boy, did he feel the need.

As soon as he had felt prudent he had sent everyone away and had switched into more comfortable clothes. The crown he wore to receive the people was heavy on his head and the cloak he usually donned was an eyesore. It was all just for show and Castiel didn’t like it. Sometimes he longed for the old days when he was just Cas and not this King everyone hailed to.

He had just been contemplating whether he wanted a bath right now or if he wanted to wait for the late sun to set when he had spotted the man. The servant that followed him with the fan as he paced the balcony almost bumped into him when he stopped so abruptly but he barely noticed it.

From over here, on the very edge of his balcony he suddenly realized that he had perfect view of a great deal more than he had initially thought. Oh, he had been impressed the first time he had stepped out on the balcony, the city spreading so wonderfully beneath him, bathing in sunlight and buzzing with life. And of course he had noticed other larger houses as well, or houses that stood out. Like the oddly shaped one to his right, like the one almost strangely immersed in plants, and like the three that had pools on their roofs, much like his own only immensely smaller. This and much more he had seen many times before but he had never seen what he was witnessing right now, on this hot afternoon.

The man was completely breathtaking. He was completely naked, that much Castiel could see even from this distance. The man floated leisurely on the still surface of the pool, the water glistening like rare gems on the man’s skin. He was sun-touched but how could he not be? He looked sinewy and abled-bodied and Castiel couldn’t help flushing at the sight of the manhood that hung low between the man’s legs. Even at this distance it looked delicious and Castiel wasn’t even embarrassed to use such a word to describe another man’s private parts.

"Who is that man? I will have his name." He stated when his closest informant had joined him at the King’s urgent request.

"Which man, Your Grace?" Gabriel asked and scanned the city beneath them as he nicked a fig from the King’s plate with his deft fingers.

"Don’t play the fool, Gabriel." Castiel answered sternly and saw the other man grin mischievously.

"I do believe that is Dean, son of John the Just that served you well before he fell in battle. _If_ it is in fact the same heavenly appearance we are talking about." He smirked around his fig. "Your Grace."

Castiel frowned, displeased with Gabriel’s jaunty nature but too used to it by now to reprimand him for it. "Tell me more."

The man — Dean — was getting out of the pool and using only a little towel to roughly dry his hair, apparently content with letting the sun dry the rest of him. Castiel swallowed.

"Well," Gabriel continued matter-of-factly and picked up another fig. "As the story goes, Dean is without wife or child, living with his only living family, his brother Samuel, known by many as Sam the Kind. Their mother perished at a young age of an illness that seems to have spread to her oldest son, Dean. He was sickly and weak for a long time and have thusly not served the realm more than what his company brings his brother, who, by all accounts, work hard to sustain them both. A tragic scenario, I must say." He concluded with his mouth full of figs.

Castiel scrunched up his nose. "Must you?" he mumbled but ignored his informant’s new smirk.

Dean was currently looking up into the sky as if watching something far off. His right hand was rubbing his chest, seemingly absentmindedly, and Castiel was overcome with a desire so great he nearly toppled over. Oh to be that hand, to be the one to rub Dean’s sun-kissed, wet skin.

"Why is he without wife?" he asked in a low murmur and only then noticed how he had gripped the balcony’s edge so hard his knuckles were white.

"I couldn’t say, Your Grace." Gabriel answered thoughtfully and snatched the last fig as well. Castiel was beyond counting the fruit anyhow. "I supposed it could have with his poor station, being labeled as weak at a young age."

"I will have him here."

"Your Grace?"

Castiel turned to his informant but could see that Gabriel already knew what this was about. Castiel wasn’t worried, however, he was the King after all and he knew he could trust Gabriel, even if all the rest would betray him.

"Bring him here, now. I will have word with him."

Gabriel made a little half-bow. "At once, Your Grace." He stated and walked off right away. Castiel turned to his servant who so sweetly had stood by, fanning him and sheltering him from the sun.

"You will bring me one of the girls. Ruby, I think will suffice. And then you will make yourself scarce. Go down to the kitchens and have food brought up as my guest arrives."

The servant made no sound and the only indication that he had listened was the same half-bow as the one Gabriel had given him. But the servant scurried away all the same and Castiel soon found himself alone on his vast balcony, staring at Dean with heated eyes.

He could already feel his cock fill at the mere sight of the man, especially now that he was alone to pursue his thoughts. Dean was breathtaking. Castiel couldn’t know until he had spoken with him, of course, but from this distance he could see nothing of the "sick and weak" nature Gabriel had spoken of. No, from this distance Dean looked perfect.

By the time Ruby joined him he was already throbbing in his pants, the ache almost unbearable. He barely glanced at her before he gestured for her to sit in front of him so that he could still watch Dean. The man had taken to sunbathe beside the pool and it made for quite the site, all his lean limbs stretched out like that.

Ruby put herself to use the only way a pleasure girl would know how and immediately set to work with removing Castiel’s clothes and carefully pulling out his engorged cock. He hissed when she grabbed it and as soon as she closed her lips around him he took to thrusting into her mouth, all too eager to finish this.

He grabbed a handful of her raven locks and held her steady as he slid his cock in and out of her, using her to pleasure himself as he watched the gorgeous man on the other roof top. Images of Dean on his knees before the King flashed before Castiel’s eyes and his hips sped up. Ruby swallowed expertly around him and accommodated to his faster pace without problem but his mind was far from her.

He wanted Dean before him, beside him, all the time. As he felt the familiar burn start in his lower spine he realized suddenly that he wanted that man in a way he had never wanted anyone before, not one of his wives or any other woman or man. He had had many lovers since he became King and he had more than one wife, was father to more than one child, but he had never felt a need such as this. If only Dean would be here now, would permit his King to gaze upon him more closely.

If only Dean would want the King’s touch in return, Castiel would know no greater joy, he was certain. If only Dean would share his bed at night and day alike.

His grip on Ruby’s hair tightened when he was about to burst but he still wouldn’t look at her. Dean was moving.

"You will swallow." He growled and Ruby made no indication that she had heard. How could she, with her face pressed against his pelvis?

King Castiel moaned loudly when he spent himself deep down the pleasure girl’s throat and the only sound Ruby ever made was a sharp gasp as she expertly swallowed all of his essence.

  
  


#### II

  


Dean had never been so nervous in his whole life, and that included waiting at home with Mother for Father and Sam to return from war. He was fidgeting and glancing around himself as he stood in the King’s private rooms, waiting for the King to join him.

The _King_.

Dean hadn’t believed what he was hearing when he had answered the door and found a short weasel of a man outside, proclaiming to having been sent by the King to collect Dean for a private audience.

Dean had been certain he was to be killed. Someone higher up in the hierarchy had surely discovered how Sam and he still lived in the fine house afforded to them by their Father’s deeds before the man’s untimely passing. Surely now was the judgement that Dean had feared all along. Sam had said that they would stay in the house as long as no one came a-knocking, asking them to leave, and Dean hadn’t argued because where would they go?

And of course someone had come to call them upon their imposing when Dean was home alone. He didn’t like to be alone, more comfortable around his little brother or maybe his few friends. Sam would have known what to say to that man. He would have called him on his lie because no King would ever want to meet Dean. No, Dean was sure he was being sent away from the house to be killed off, both for keeping the house given to his Father and not him, and for him being who he was. A weakling. There was no greater shame, Dean believed, because the good Lord helped those who helped themselves and everyone knew that Dean could do nothing for himself.

But Sam hadn’t been there so Dean had done nothing but stutter and resort to leaving Sam a small note, trying to explain where he was, before he followed the smaller man. The man had lead him to an elaborate palanquin that Dean frankly had felt too dirty to even touch, even after his very recent bath. But the smaller man had insisted and now here Dean was, alone in the King’s private quarters, save some stone-faced servants by the doors.

The smaller man had told Dean to make himself comfortable, sit down, eat something and Dean was hungry — he really was — but his stomach was in such a knot that not even all the delicious looking food could entice him.

Suddenly the big doors that Dean had been brought through opened to reveal the King himself, along with several servants and that weasly man. Dean’s hand went up to his head before he could remember that he hadn’t put his hat on. He lowered the hand slowly as the King approached, his face burning with shame and his hands going to the hem of his shirt, pulling at it like he did when he was little.

The King came to stand before him and Dean just stared at him for a moment, completely taken with the man’s handsome face. He had seen King Castiel a couple of times before but always from afar and yet he had known already then that the King was everything one would want in a man.

He had a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, thick hair and intelligent eyes that were so blue that Dean was mesmerized beyond speech as soon as their eyes met. The King was a little older than Dean, a little spray of white already showing at his temples but it made him look dignified to a point where Dean wanted nothing more than to run his hands through the otherwise dark hair.

He was embarrassed to say that he might be staring with his mouth open a little and when his King quirked his lips in the slightest of smiles Dean’s eyes immediately drew down to the man’s mouth and oh… Dean’s knees felt weak.

A small noise startled him and he jerked to look to the side of the King, the smaller man staring meaningfully at him and inclining his head to the floor. And Dean flushed bright red before dropping to one knee, bowing his head respectfully.

"My King." He said in a much hoarser voice than normally and only then realized that maybe he wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to. Thanks to his Father and brother Dean had grown up in a station a little higher than what would have been expected from someone with his condition but he knew he was still far down the chain. And this was the King. The savior of their whole world.

"You may rise, my son." King Castiel intoned and Dean wasn’t really sure he could rise on his shaking legs. He did anyway, of course, but could feel how unstable he was.

He had heard the King speak before but that had always been to large groups, never as intimate as this and the man’s voice made Dean both calm and on edge. He didn’t know where to put his hands and he kept his eyes respectfully lowered.

He heard, rather than saw, the King move and then there was a murmur, King Castiel’s voice for sure, and suddenly the smaller man was rounding up the servants and ushering them out of the room.

"Come here, if you please."

Dean snapped his head up to see that King Castiel was looking kindly at him, his right arm outstretched to invite Dean deeper into his quarters. Dean swallowed and tentatively stepped after the King. He sat down when bid to do so but only stared with wide eyes at the food that was laid out before them on the table that stood between them.

"I assure you, it is most delicious." The King declared after some time in silence when all Dean had managed was more staring.

"I…" he cleared his throat but couldn’t meet King Castiel’s eyes for fear of drowning. "I don’t know what to do."

"How so?" the King asked, seemingly genuinely confused. "How to eat?"

Dean turned a glare on the King before he could even stop himself. " _That_ I know." He muttered and watched as King Castiel plucked up a piece of cheese before popping it in his mouth, his attention completely on Dean. Dean blushed but refused to acknowledge it. "What am I doing here?"

He knew, of course, that it wasn’t prudent for someone of his station to question the King but if he was going to be executed he would rather it happened fast and not prolong it with false pleasantries.

But King Castiel didn’t seem offended. He just lowered his hand and sat back more comfortably, watching Dean carefully. It made Dean fidget in his seat and if he hadn’t been sweating already from the warm weather he was sure he would start now with the King’s piercing eyes on him.

"I have seen you, in the city." Dean wasn’t sure what the pause was about but he wasn’t going to ask about it. "I have found you interesting." The King continued and Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he could control himself. "I would like to employ you, Dean."

Dean wasn’t even going to ask how the King knew his name. "For what?" he asked instead, incredulous at the mere notion. "I have no skill."

King Castiel’s eyes flashed with something almost dangerous, something on the thrilling side of danger. "Oh, I find that very hard to believe." He said slowly and Dean felt that now-familiar blush creep up on him again.

"I-it’s true." He stuttered and hated himself for it. His stomach rolled with a combination of hunger and embarrassment. "If you know my name and where I live you certainly know what a liability I am. Your Grace." He remembered in the last moment to add the title. God forgive him, he hadn’t done it since they sat down. That the King had yet to strike him down was a wonder certainly deserving of the Lord’s kindness.

"You mean that you were sickly as a child?" the King asked and plucked up a fig only to offer it to Dean.

He didn’t dare refuse now and as he accepted the fig their fingers brushed together for the briefest of moments. It didn’t help with his now permanently burning cheeks.

"I do, Your Grace." He mumbled and dared nibble at the offered treat. It was juicy and sweet enough to have him moaning at the taste and when he raised his eyes he noticed the King staring directly at his lips. Dean swallowed self-consciously. "I couldn’t do anything as a child and now no one will take me for fear that I might relapse."

"Well, that won’t be a problem for me." The King stated authoritatively. "I will not require you to do manual labor and if you should feel under the weather I have the best healers in the realm at my disposal."

"Y-your Grace?" Dean mumbled out around his fig, hardly believing what he was hearing. "What _is_ it that you would require of me?"

King Castiel drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Father had done that too, when he was irritated and wanted to calm down, but the King didn’t look irritated at all. He looked like someone who had smelled the sweetest flower and wanted to commit the scent to memory.

"I want you to _be_ here." Dean just blinked stupidly at the man and the King smiled gently when he opened his eyes and found Dean staring like a fool. "Would you do that for your King? Would you come here, every day, and stay here by my side?"

"B-but…" Dean _really_ wasn’t getting it. Why, for example? "But my brother." He blurted and got a head rush with how hard he blushed. Would this ordeal never end?

The King nodded wisely. "I am aware that you live with your brother. I would have you here with me all the time but I realize that is a lot to ask, even for a King. So how about we start like this?" he smiled kindly and leaned forwards a little. Dean gulped at how close they suddenly seemed, even with the table still between them.

"When would you require me to be here, Your Grace?" he asked in a low tone, curious as the King inhaled deeply yet again. "My brother works from sunup ‘til sundown and I always prepare food for him, it’s the least I can do."

King Castiel tilted his head to the side and seemed to consider Dean’s words extremely carefully, as if Dean _mattered_. To a _King_.

"Then I want you to come here one hour after your brother have left and leave here one hour before his return. And to make up for the food, I will pay you in dinner that will be sent to your house every evening. How does that sound?"

Like a dream, Dean realized confusedly. Getting paid in food would be completely fine with him since any money he would earn certainly would go to food anyway. And coming here, to _work_ for the King — or work at all — would give Dean a sense of fulfillment he had never thought he would be able to feel, not in his condition.

If only he knew what exactly the King wanted with him. But as he met the older man’s steady gaze he was beginning to realize that he would have to find out his chores little by little, _if_ he chose to accept. Because the King was giving him a choice in the matter, as odd as that seemed.

"It sounds very fair, Your Grace."

King Castiel smiled then, the biggest, most dazzling smile Dean had ever seen and it made him dizzy with shameful feelings.

"Very good." The King said and got to his feet, Dean scrambling to rise himself. "But don’t decide completely today. Go home, sleep on it, and be here tomorrow with your answer."

Dean nodded and bowed because he didn’t know how else to accept the offer and the order. Normal circumstances would require a handshake but he didn’t think it would be appropriate of him to touch the King, no matter how much he wanted to.

  
  


#### III

  


"I just don’t understand it, is all I’m saying."

Dean sighed as he cleaned the table after their meager dinner. "I heard you, Sammy."

"I mean," Sam turned in his seat to look more closely at his older brother. Dean didn’t like his gaze so he turned to the wash bucket instead. "What would a King have with you?"

"Yes, _thank_ you." Dean gritted out and started gingerly cleaning the cutlery and plates in the water he had brought in from the well earlier. "I guess I could cook and clean for him, couldn’t I?" he asked in a much more condescending tone than he had meant.

Sam sighed. "I didn’t mean no offense, Dean. You know I love how you help me around the house."

Dean was gritting his teeth much too harshly, he knew. If he wasn’t careful he was sure he would end up like the old man that had lived on the streets just outside their house ever since Dean was little. He used to talk to that man when he was home alone, sick in his bed. That man was mad, Dean had always known and Dean had always wondered why. Perhaps a lack of teeth would do that to a man?

"This would give me something to do, wouldn’t it?" He asked after a moment in stifling silence, more suffocating than the evening heat. "I’m withering away in here, Sammy."

Sam sighed again and stood up, his wooden stool scraping against the unforgiving floor. "And what would he have you do?"

"He didn’t say."

"That’s my whole point, brother!" Sam exclaimed and Dean refused to meet his eyes. "I simply cannot endorse you working for someone who is not honest in his intentions."

Dean turned with a sneer to his little brother who, in reality, was much bigger than Dean. "He is the _King_ , Sammy. Doesn’t that account for something? He saved us."

"He did." Sam nodded in agreement but didn’t look the least convinced. "I’m just worried about you. You’re all I have left now." He stepped up to Dean and put an affectionate hand on his arm. Dean couldn’t help leaning into the touch. "It’s just you and me now, Dean. What would I do if something happened to you? I wish you wouldn’t have gone up there without me."

Dean looked down at the floor, ashamed of his own inadequacies. "I wanted you with me but I couldn’t refuse a summons from the King, could I?"

"I suppose not." Sam conceded in a low tone and now it was Dean’s turn to sigh.

"And you don’t just have me, don’t think I haven’t seen the looks you share with that curly haired woman."

"Who?" Sam asked in a much too innocent voice. He stepped back when Dean grinned at him. "Ah, you mean Jessica? Well…" he rubbed the back of his neck and sat down at the table again.

"No need to hide, little brother." Dean laughed gently and turned to finish the dishes. "I know your intentions with her without you uttering a single word and here I am, all in the way."

"That’s _not_ true."

"Isn’t it?" Dean didn’t have to turn back to know his brother was shaking his head; they had had this conversation too many times already. "Let me take the night to decide and then I will go to the King tomorrow again to give him my answer."

"You have already decided." Sam accused and sounded much younger.

Dean dried his hands and tossed the rag beside the washing bucket. "I will hear him out one more time and then I will decide." His eyes softened as he took in Sam’s concerned face. "I know I am of lower station than you but I _am_ the elder, give me that much, at least."

Sam looked away but nodded once. "I will. But just don’t… Don’t make any hasty decisions based on what you think is best for everyone around you. Think about yourself."

Something Dean had never been afforded before, with his station falling lower than even women. He couldn’t work, he couldn’t fight, he couldn’t bear children, and he wasn’t even fit to be a slave.

He was living on borrowed time, going off his family’s merits and both he and his brother knew this. But for the first time Dean felt as if he maybe had something to offer someone. He didn’t know what the King wanted with him but somehow it felt comforting to think about King Castiel’s gentle smiles. Even if he would just serve for one day, even if it was only to satisfy the King’s need to murder, then Dean would be glad to do it.

He just nodded to his brother and went up to the roof again, reveling in the privacy of the pool. That they even had their own pool was marvelous as it was and that Dean only had to share it with Sammy was yet another marvel. Both brother had soon come to an understanding about the pool, one that was quite simple. If one of them went up without the other, you didn’t follow. They had both walked in on each other in compromising situations more than once and it had soon constituted the need for said rule. That was after all how Sam had found out his brother’s shameful side.

Dean sighed as he sunk himself down into the pool’s cool water for the second time that day. They usually didn’t indulge like this but this had been an extremely stressful day for Dean and he longed to relax. That coupled with images of King Castiel had Dean on the verge of heated relaxation, treading the fine line of arousal and shame.

He was glad it was dark outside and that he hadn’t lit any candles here on the roof, was glad for the semblance of privacy even as he was outside. Above him the dome of the sky spread out like a beautiful blanket and Dean couldn’t help but smile to himself as he watched the night sky and listened to the dulled sound of the streets below, subdued this late in the evening.

It didn’t take long for his thoughts to wander and for his hands to slide down his water-slick body. His back arched as he touched his rapidly filling manhood where he was sat, half immersed in the water on the steps of the pool.

The King had looked astonishing up close. Dean had always been a little enamored with the man, as was many in the land, he supposed. But to be so close to him, to hear him talk in that intimate voice, all of his attention directed only at Dean. It had been something else.

He shuddered when he gripped his cock harder, stroking a little faster. The water sloshed around him and he sunk down in his seat a little, spreading his legs as if to accommodate someone between them.

The King’s hands had looked so deft, what wouldn’t they feel like wrapped around Dean’s most sensitive parts? His breath stuttered as he imagined it.

"Lord, forgive me…" he mumbled feverishly as he let his other hand reach down lower, his fingers prodding his anus. _This_ was his most shameful secret, _this_ was why Sammy never entered the rooftop if Dean had gone up here alone first. Seeing his bigger brother fucking himself on his own fingers had definitely made the younger brother cautious.

Dean knew it was wrong but he also knew that many rich men kept slave boys as pleasure slaves just as they had girls and he couldn’t help imagine it. Still, he usually sent out a small prayer to the Lord in the Heaven, begging His divine forgiveness. Secretly Dean resented the Lord for having made him the way he had. If Dean had been a girl it wouldn’t have mattered that he was sickly and it definitely wouldn’t have mattered that he wanted a man’s embrace.

Still, there was nothing to be done about that and Dean loved the way it felt to touch his cock as he fingered his only hole enough that he supposed he could forgive the Lord. Besides, they always said that the Lord worked in mysterious ways, what if Dean had been made this way on purpose, to be able to please his King?

"Oh, please." Dean moaned, much more vocal than he usually was. But he couldn’t help it, not when he imagined the King being pleased with him for this, being pleased _by_ his actions.

He imagined kneeling before the King, just as he had on this day, but King Castiel would be naked. Would have his manhood in his hand and Dean would be permitted to taste it.

"O-oh." Dean’s breath was ragged and he rose on unsteady legs only to turn around and lean his right hand on the edge of the pool even as his other went back to his hole, pressing fingers inside.

He had done this before, though not very many times and not as rushed, and he loved it. This time he hadn’t prepared himself half as well as he usually did but he had less patience now than when he imagined faceless men behind him. With the images of King Castiel pressed behind him, his erect cock pressing against Dean’s bottom, Dean couldn’t contain himself.

He hissed at the burn that came with shoving two fingers inside his needy hole but he relished it all the same. His own cock hang heavy and hard between his legs, bobbing with the motions of his hips as he pushed back against his hand.

He was a shaking mess in no time and his head was swimming with _Castiel_. Oh Lord, the man had been everything Dean could ever want. He needed to run his fingers through that man’s hair, needed to grip it hard as the King kissed him until he couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know what he would be doing, working for the King, but he certainly hoped it would entail him being at least in the same room as the man. What if…? Dean had no skills but he did have _this_.

He sped up his fingers, finally finding that one place inside him that made him squirm and he moaned much louder than he ever had before. But he didn’t care if someone on the streets below heard him, he didn’t care if Sam heard him. He was simply beyond caring because what if the King wanted him for this?

Surely the King had his own harem but did he have only women? What if he wanted Dean to join that harem?

"P-please…" he all but sobbed as his release pulled at his insides, twisting him until it was almost painful but oh, how he wanted and needed and yearned. "Please." He groaned again and wrapped his right hand around his dick.

It made him lose balance and he fell down to his knees on the pool steps, the water catching him and sloshing over the edge. But he felt nothing of that, the pain that shot up through his knees only mingled with the pleasure that coursed through him and he gave a hoarse shout as he emptied himself into the pool’s water.

His cock was burning and jumping in his hand and he clenched unconsciously around his fingers, desperately wondering what it would feel like to have another man’s cock inside him. And now, for the first time, he wished it was a specific man.

  
  


#### IV

  


The day was long and tedious. Castiel had to go up early in the morning to attend his council and then he was whisked right away to hold court. Really, he _was_ the King and he supposedly could tell everyone to go away but what kind of message would that send to the realm?

Still, he felt horribly suffocated all day and it wasn’t helped by the fact that he knew Dean was waiting for him in his chambers. Only a few moments after he had seated himself on his throne had one of Gabriel’s little mice whispered in his ear, informing him on Dean’s arrival, just as promised by the informant.

Oh how he had wanted to flee the court room that instance to attend to his — no, not his yet — to attend to Dean’s every wish. He wanted to show the man what he could do for him and he wanted Dean to spread out before him in gratitude.

But he couldn’t and wouldn’t leave his court. So he had simply told the mouse to show Dean to the royal quarters and to see so that Dean’s every need was met. The man was not to leave the palace, the King declared, but he wasn’t a prisoner, he was to be treated like a high Lord.

The mouse hadn’t questioned it because Castiel was the King. He had just scurried off to do his King’s biddings and Castiel had had to settle for enduring throughout the day, drawing strength from the fact that he would once again be able to gaze upon that vision of a man in broad daylight.

Last night, just before he prepared to withdraw to his massive bedchamber, the King had walked out on his balcony one last time. He had thought he couldn’t stand it to sleep without one more glance at the house that held his newfound treasure.

What he hadn’t expected to see was the shadowy figure of Dean bathing once more. It was far off and no fires were lit on the balcony but the moon illuminated the man enough so that King Castiel had been able to see what had been going on. And what he had seen had had him flushed and achingly hard in mere moments.

He had shouted for the servants to bring Meg, his most eager pleasure girl, even as Dean was pumping his fist over his heated cock. Meg arrived just as Dean was standing up and turning around, his hand against his plump ass cheeks and the King had wasted no time slicking his own cock up with spit and bending Meg over to take her from behind as he watched the man he so desperately desired bring himself to pleasure with his mere fingers.

Oh, Castiel had hoped and wished but he hadn’t dared believe that Dean could be interested in this as well. He had desired the man from afar and had thought to bring him closer, to at least be able to look at him. Their first meeting had given him hope, however, and now to have witnessed Dean pleasuring himself by touching his tight hole...

Castiel had shook against Meg as he emptied himself, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Dean rinse in the pool, and he had gone to sleep that night, feeling more content than he had ever had.

And now here he was, bereft of Dean’s company at the expense of his court and his patience a thin line that too many people chose to stomp on. A mere hour more and he would be able to see the marvel of a man again and he decided in that moment to spend that hour thinking about what he would do to the man.

  
  


#### V

  


Dean was yet again extremely nervous. He had come to the palace one hour after Sam had left for work, just as promised, and he had just then realized that maybe the King had set that rule because he didn’t want Dean’s brother to know about this? It shouldn’t be thrilling to think about their meetings as some kind of secret but it was.

Still, he had come to the palace only to be turned away. Well, not completely, of course. He hadn’t known where he should go so he had entered with the rest of the throngs of people waiting for an audience with the King and he had been forced to stand there with them. He hadn’t been certain if that was correct of him or not and just as he had been on the verge of asking someone a man approached him and told him to follow him to the King’s royal quarters.

Dean had followed him because he hadn’t known what else to do and so far it seemed to be the right choice.

Dean had been left to lounge in the King’s own lush rooms, servants present to attend to him, food brought at regular intervals — too much food for him to even finish between servings — and all the other luxury at his disposal.

He had felt out of place, to be honest, and not like he could quite enjoy himself for fear of misbehaving. Then, just as a new plate of food was brought in — sweet fruits and rolls of cheese this time, to be swallowed with wine that sent Dean’s head spinning and which he avoided in favor of the pleasantly cool spring water — the small man that had come get him the day before entered the room. He had explained that the King would be joining Dean shortly and that Dean would do well to take a bath.

Dean had seen no reason to argue, even if he wanted to complain that if someone was smelling bad here it was the small man and not Dean. Even so, he now found himself standing in the perfume sentenced water of the King’s own pool.

This pool was something else, Dean had discovered very quickly. Its floor was of the design that it sloped down, making one end deeper than the other. Dean had never really learnt how to swim because the pool at their house was too shallow for him to really accomplish that but he had learned how to float and floating out by the deep end sent pleasant thrills throughout his whole body.

He wondered if the King bathed in this pool every morning and if so, if he was now sharing the same waters as King Castiel himself had lounged in. The thought made him blush and he had to force himself so as not to allow his cock to fill out. He was still surrounded by servants, although fewer in here in the bath, and he was very conscious of them, even if all they did was stare into nothingness until called upon.

He was currently standing with water up to his buttocks, only half-covering his thankfully soft manhood, and washing his stomach with the nice-smelling water. The water sloshed around him as he moved but not nearly as much went over the edge as it did in his little pool at home because the edges of this pool was elevated to catch minor waves. It was really an astonishing piece of work, Dean reflected serenely as he turned around.

The sight that met him almost made his heart seize in his chest. He yelped in a decidedly unmanly fashion and put a hand over his heart, the water definitely going over the edge this time.

King Castiel just smiled widely and rested his head in his hand where he was sat on one of the chairs by the pool side.

"Y-Your Grace." Dean gasped and tried to regain control of his breathing. He unconsciously covered his nakedness with his hand and gulped when he saw that the King noticed.

"Please, call me Castiel when we are alone." The King asked in that deep rumble of a voice and Dean blushed furiously.

He wanted to keep his manhood hidden but realized that listening to the King talk while fondling himself was a bad idea. So he released his cock but stepped a few steps back, successfully immersing his whole cock in the water. The King seemed to notice that too.

"I’m sorry, Your Grace, but wouldn’t that be… Blasphemous?" he asked when he couldn’t find the right word.

King Castiel raised his eyebrows and leaned his elbows on his knees so that he came closer to the pool, almost as if to compensate for the distance Dean had put between them. Only now did Dean notice that the King was naked from the waist up. How had he not seen that before?!

Suddenly it was all he could think about. The way the King’s muscles rippled as he moved, his chest and stomach were toned and sunburned even though he obviously spent a lot of his time inside the palace. The King’s nipples were a dusky brown and Dean couldn’t look away. He almost missed what the man said next.

"I’m in no way worthy of such devotion, Dean." King Castiel murmured with a small smile. "It would give me great joy if we could call each other by our given names."

"Yes, Y—Castiel." Dean whispered and barely repressed a shudder when the King’s smile grew. He should get out of the pool and into his clothes but he felt trapped under the other man’s gaze.

"Now," King Castiel said and straightened to clap his hands twice. "I feel I must confess to my uttermost remorse at having kept you waiting all day." He shook his head to quiet Dean when he opened his mouth to protest. "I will have none of it, Dean. I invited you here and I kept you waiting, it was terribly rude of me. Luckily I think I have just the remedy for it."

"Your Grace—" Dean hastened to say and walked a little closer in his desperation to assure the man that he hadn’t been mistreated in any way. "Castiel." He corrected himself at the King’s amused smile. "I-I feel you have only wronged yourself, in believing you have wronged me."

"Are you questioning your King?" The man asked but his voice was one of humor and Dean shook his head confusedly, his eyes big and so focused on the King that he nearly missed the beautiful woman that walked over to the King’s side.

"Of course not, Your Grace."

"Good." The King practically purred and Dean’s cock would have twitched at the sound, he had no doubt, if it hadn’t been for the way the King touched the woman. The touch was tender and it gave Dean a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The woman wore nothing but a thin, golden chain around her waist that held up a narrow piece of silk which barely covered her private areas and almost reached the floor. Her body was supple and rose tinted, beautifully accented by her golden, almost white hair. The King caressed her side and languidly traced the chain. Dean’s eyes tracked the movement of his fingers.

"This is Lilith." The King suddenly stated and Dean’s eyes snapped over to the man’s incredibly blue ones. "She is my most beautiful pleasure girl, there is no man in the realm that wouldn’t abandon his wife for a night with her."

He put his hand to her bottom and smacked her lightly. She started walking towards Dean without a word, uncaring of how her silk got wet as she entered the pool.

"Y-Your Grace." Dean stuttered and moved a little to the side only to discover to his dismay that the woman followed him. "This is not necessary."

The King leaned on his elbows again, his eyes dark as he watched Dean. "Oh, but I think it is." He stated in a gravelly voice and Dean gulped visibly.

Lilith moved with the sort of fluidity only women could possess and Dean was as enthralled with her as he was scared. If this was a pleasure girl then he knew where this was going but somehow it didn’t feel like a reward; it felt like being tossed to wild animals.

The silk that had covered her floated on the water and it was the first of her to touch him but even so he shied away from the touch. Surely this was punishment. The King had seen him staring too much last time and had set out to reveal Dean’s dirtiness by enticing him with this creature of the night.

Dean scrunched his eyes shut as Lilith put her hand on his shoulder, trailing her soft fingers down his arm. The King was angered with him, that must be it. And Dean shuddered to think of what might happen to him if he failed his King in this. What would happen to Sam? Surely the brother of such a deviant would be publicly shamed?

Dean gasped pitifully when Lilith closed her delicate hand around his flaccid cock. Her expression gave nothing away but somehow that was worse. Dean was on the verge of tears and she was just looking at him with a stony face.

"Please, Your Grace." Dean whispered and tried desperately to fight the urge to push the woman away.

"Castiel." The King answered and Dean nodded frantically.

"Castiel." He repeated. "Please, don’t make me do this."

Lilith chose that moment to move in, going around him to stand at his back, her full breasts pressing against him even as her other hand started fondling his round balls. But he was scared and disgusted and nothing she did could make him hard enough to suffice.

"Do you not like it?" King Castiel asked, sounding a little confused but there was something else in his tone too, something dangerous and Dean was really crying now.

His hands shook by his sides as he clenched them into fists so as to keep himself from ripping Lilith’s hands away. He bowed his head and felt shame burn his cheeks when he heard the dripping sound his tears made as they rolled off him and into the pool.

"I’m sorry." He whispered in a barely there rasp. "I cannot—I-I’m not—I’m so sorry."

The sound of King Castiel clapping his hands again was like thunder in Dean’s shattered mind and he thought that surely this was it. Surely that clap meant that the King was summoning his guards to stone Dean to death.

But all that happened was that Lilith withdrew from him and when he raised his head he saw that the King gestured for her to leave. She obeyed immediately and as she walked out of the pool the King stood up, tall and regal and with eyes burning with an inner fire that melted Dean’s bones even in his fear.

"Leave us." King Castiel commanded. "All of you."

It took a moment for all of the servants to understand that the King was serious but mere moments later Dean found himself completely alone with the King in the bath, the man’s eyes never having left Dean’s.

As soon as the door closed behind the King, Castiel wasted no time stepping into the bath himself. The pants he wore immediately got soaked but the King seemed completely uncaring of that.

"Your—Castiel." Dean exclaimed and went to the other man. He didn't know how but he needed to help the King with his clothes; couldn’t let them be ruined.

He didn’t get very far, however, before the King bumped into him. Dean gasped and looked up just as the man took him by his chin, tilting his head back. His other hand landed on the small of Dean’s back and suddenly Dean found himself pulled into a tight embrace.

"You did so well." The King complimented him in a soothing tone, his thumb brushing away any remains of Dean’s tears. "So brave."

Dean shuddered in the man’s embrace but not out of fear now, oh no. "Castiel? I don’t understand."

The King shushed him gently. "I know, love." He murmured and brushed his hand through Dean’s hair. "I had my suspicions, you see." He continued in that same soothing tone and his hands were moving, Dean was acutely aware. The one on his back travelled down to his bottom to grab one of his cheeks and the other travelled down his front.

"S-suspicions?" he stuttered and felt to his horror how his cock responded eagerly to the King’s closeness. King Castiel’s breath ghosted over Dean’s face and Dean wanted to kiss the man.

"You’re so beautiful, Dean. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Never." Dean all but squeaked when the King’s hand found his manhood.

"Such a shame." The King murmured but Dean was beyond hearing.

Where Lilith’s hands had failed so miserably, King Castiel’s succeeded with the barest of touches. Dean had put his hands on the King’s chest to support himself and now they curled into fists as the other man started gently tugging at his rapidly filling cock.

Never had he thought that it would have felt like this to have someone that he desired touch his sensitive parts. Heat traveled up and down his body even as pleasure zinged down his spine to pool in his lower stomach.

Touches that had had him crying mere moments ago now made him gasp and moan in pleasure and his knees buckled when the King added a curious twist to his strokes. King Castiel just grabbed a tighter hold on him and slotted a thigh between Dean’s shaking legs so that Dean was completely leaned against him, almost sitting in his lap even though they were still standing.

"M-My King." Dean moaned as pleasure wracked his body, making him roll against the older man. "Why?"

King Castiel put his face against Dean’s no doubt sweaty hair and breathed in sharply, letting loose a moan of his own that had Dean’s cock leaking. He was glad that his private area was still half-submersed so that the King’s hand wouldn’t be too dirtied with his fluids. The water sloshed up between them between strokes and washed the evidence of Dean’s arousal away well enough.

"Why?" the King repeated in an amused voice even as Dean was losing all semblance of self-control. "I have many wives, I have even more pleasure girls, but _no one_ has enthralled me as you do."

"But I— _oh_ —but I’m a man. I-I shouldn’t—we shouldn’t…" he bit off himself with a deep moan when the King reached back to prod his fingers at Dean’s hole. With the water Dean almost thought the entering would be smooth but the King apparently contented himself with just fingering the fluttering rim, almost driving Dean insane with want.

"You didn't like Lilith touching you." The King stated in a dark voice. It was thicker than before and Dean wanted it so desperately to be from arousal.

"I’m sorry." Dean sobbed even as he rutted against his King.

The air around them was cloying with the smell of sweat and sex and the perfumed water. Dean’s skin was crawling and he didn’t think he had ever been so aroused before.

Then the King groaned again and hoisted Dean higher up against his body only to bury his face against Dean’s neck.

"Do you like this?" He asked in a decidedly husky voice and emphasized it by squeezing Dean’s cock.

Dean’s hips stuttered forward and he couldn’t breathe. He was sure he was going to come any second and oh no, if he did he would splatter all over the King’s fancy clothes.

"My King, I c-can’t hold on." He moaned desperately and felt the older man shudder against him.

"You like it enough to spend yourself from it?" He asked and if Dean hadn’t been so blinded from lust he would have heard the astonishment in the King’s tone.

"I’m sorry." He whispered again.

His cock hurt, his balls were tight and the coil in his stomach was ready to be released. He didn’t want the King to hate him and he didn’t want to be killed for liking this but at that moment he couldn’t think about any of that. Could only think about the King’s hand wrapped around him, the man’s heavy breath on Dean’s oversensitized skin.

He was startled when the King suddenly grabbed his hair to pull his head back but the moment their mouths connected Dean’s coil let loose. He screamed against King Castiel’s mouth and clung desperately to him as his cock erupted in fat stripes of whiteness. Most of it splattered between them and landed in the water but some clung to the King’s stomach and pants and Dean’s eyes widened in fright when he saw.

But the King only splashed his hand quickly in the water to clean it before he took Dean’s face in his hands and kissed him again. It was much less desperate this time and Dean melted against him, letting the King’s strong body hold him up as well.

"You are so beautiful." The King stated again and Dean blushed something fierce. He tried to hide his face by ducking his head but the King would have none of it. He just kissed Dean again, deeply and possessively and Dean moaned into it.

He found his hands wandering down the other man’s body but King Castiel caught them before they went too far down.

"I’m sorry I didn’t please you with that woman." He mumbled when the King forced him to meet his eyes.

It made King Castiel smile, however, and he leaned in to peck Dean on the lips once more. "Dean, my beautiful dove, you have this great gift and I want you to share it with me, if you would please?"

Dean blinked stupidly. "Is… Is that what you would require of me, Castiel?" he asked, well aware that he was using the man’s name as a title now but unable to stop.

The King only nodded and kept smiling. "I would." He stated simply, caressing Dean’s face with his thumbs. "So what is your answer Dean, son of John the Just? Do you accept my offer? Was that what you came to tell me today only to be so cruelly avoided for so many hours?"

Dean looked down and his hands curled into fists in the soaked cloth of the King’s pants. "You are the King, it is your right to make people wait on you."

"If I could have it so, I would make you wait for no one."

Dean’s head was swimming. The scented waters were making his head heady and his recent release had made him loose in all his limbs. Even so, he didn’t think for one second that any of that steered his decision.

"I came to accept your offer, Your Grace." He mumbled, still with his eyes cast down and a new blush working its way onto his cheeks. "I would like to work for you."

King Castiel made such a pleased sound that Dean was almost fooled into believing the man had found his own release. He didn’t get the chance to ask him about that, though, and the King gave him no answer to his acceptance other than a new, thorough kiss.

  
  


#### VI

  


"I just can’t—I mean, I _really_ can’t believe—I just, I…"

Dean watched nervously as Sam paced their little kitchen, ranting to himself about the deal Dean had struck with their King.

He fiddled with one of the figs that had fallen out of one of the many baskets that had been delivered to the house mere moments after Dean had arrived home. If the King had thought to keep their arrangement secret from Sam then he should probably have dressed down the food a little, Dean thought. It was far richer than any food Dean would have been able to buy or cook himself and Sam would have known immediately that something strange was going on.

Then again, telling his little brother everything that had happened had maybe not been the smartest move either.

But Sam had taken one look at the food and then cornered Dean. And Dean had been raised by his humble Mother and her women friends, his chances of standing against authority pretty much shot. And this was _Sam_. No, Dean probably wouldn’t have been able to keep shut about this even if he had wanted to.

But he sure was wishing he had wanted to a little, he thought now as he watched Sam angrily talking to himself.

"He wants you as a pleasure slave." He stated suddenly and Dean winced.

"He didn’t say that."

Sam slammed his hands down on the table, making Dean jump and the figs to spill out of the basket.

"Then _why_ would he do what he did to you?"

Dean averted his eyes, the memory of his King’s gentle kisses still lingering on his lips. "I don’t know." He mumbled and felt his cheeks heat at the thought of doing something like that again. "But maybe it’s not so bad, Sammy." He said and looked up at Sam’s snort.

"How so?" His little brother asked and crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking imposing.

Dean’s shoulder hunched down. "I’m not good at anything. You were wondering yourself what a King would want with someone like me. But this… I can do this."

Sammy’s face scrunched up in sympathy and sorrow. "But Dean—"

"I _want_ to do this, Sam." He stated, louder and clearer and Sam eyed him warily. "I don’t want to be a burden for you. I want you to marry that Jessica and bring her here, liven this house up with some children, and not worry about me. Maybe… I mean, if I work for the King then surely we could keep this house without fear of the authorities taking it from us."

Sam sighed deeply and bent down to pick up the figs. "I wish you would stop thinking so lowly of yourself."

Dean gritted his teeth. He wanted to yell that it wasn’t so strange when he had heard all his life that he wouldn’t amount to anything, that he was too weak to do anything right. But it was never Sam that had said those things so he refrained from dumping it on his little brother. Instead he just squared his shoulders and looked defiantly at Sam.

"Well, maybe I’m accepting the offer not just because of you but for myself as well. And I don’t mean for all the reasons I just said, I mean because I would be his pleasure slave and the King is very handsome, Sam."

He emphasized it with a meaningful look and Sam’s eyes widened even as his cheeks tinted with a blush of his own.

"That may be so." He conceded after a little moment and this was the first time Dean was glad that Sam had walked in on him fucking himself in a way that had forced him to explain his preferences. "But I still don’t like it, the arrangement I mean. I will have talks with the King tomorrow."

Now it was Dean’s eyes that widened. "Sam, don’t. He’s the _King_."

"And he was simply a man once." Sam said in that tone that told Dean this conversation was about to be over. "On her deathbed Mother made me promise to look after you, Dean, and I would rather kill myself than dishonor that promise."

"Look after doesn’t mean baby." Dean mumbled but looked down at the table and the wayward figs Sam had put there. He missed his Mother very much in that moment.

"I will go to the palace tomorrow and I will talk to the King." Sam stated with finality in his voice. "And you will remain here, awaiting my return. I know you have already promised yourself to the King’s service but I want to hear his intentions for myself."

"Yes, Sam." Dean mumbled and barely managed not to show his anger in his voice. When it was clear that Sam was done Dean rose and grabbed the basket of figs before retreating up to the rooftop.

He was angry and scared at the same time. He wanted the King’s intentions to mean what he had implied they would and he was scared they didn’t; that Sam was right. At the same time he was angered with his little brother for treating him like someone who couldn’t make decisions on their own.

And he had been so glad too, so excited to show Sam all this wonderful food his actions had brought them. The King had sent him away short after the bath and Dean had only been slightly disappointed. He had thought he had seen an impressive erection on his King as the man stepped out of the bath but the King had not mentioned it and had excused himself shortly after. But Dean had decided not to feel too let down about that because he had been tired and still a little shaken with the recent events. So he had only done as bid and gotten dressed before leaving for home, only to find all that food waiting for him.

His mind had never strayed far from images of his King, though, and even now, as he sat munching on the figs and watching the palace in the darkness, he wished nothing else than to be back in the King’s embrace.

  
  


#### VII

  


Castiel watched the man on the other side of the table closely. He supposed there were similarities between this younger man and Dean and he supposed this was an impressive man as well but by no means was he as exquisite as Dean.

Still, this was Dean’s brother and a man who had fought valiantly for Castiel, he owed it to the man to listen.

"So, what you are telling me is that Dean will not be joining me today?" He asked in a displeased tone and saw how Sam grew uncomfortable. He didn't fidget, though. No, this man believed himself to be in the right. And maybe he was, King Castiel certainly didn’t think himself so mighty as to know all of God’s plans.

"That is what I am saying, Your Grace."

"And in his stead you have come. Will you service me the same, I wonder?" he smiled amusedly when the tips of Sam’s ears reddened.

"No, Your Grace."

"You are bold, I will give you that." Castiel held up the plate with assorted fruits but Sam didn’t even glance at it. "And steadfast." He mumbled and watched curiously how Sam’s eyebrows knitted together.

"I know what you have told Dean about his employment here and I know his answer." Sam stated calmly even as his hands fisted against his knees. Castiel sat back in his seat. "Now I want to know your _real_ intentions." Sam’s face darkened and he leaned forwards. "What do you actually want with my brother?"

Castiel guessed he was supposed to be either scared of Sam’s expression or mad at the same but all he could feel was joy that Dean had someone like this in his life. Someone who loved him so wholeheartedly that he would risk his life for him. A lesser King would kill Sam for his insubordination, Castiel knew. But he liked the man’s boldness and Gabriel had vouched for him as well. So he decided to be truthful.

"I want Dean in my bed, every night." He answered in a steady voice and watched confusion flicker over Sam’s face. "When I’m tired I want him to hold me and when I’m horny I want him to ride me. I want him to live with me and be mine."

Sam’s confusion grew into shock. "But your wives." He blurted and Castiel hazarded a laugh.

"There is no love lost between us, I assure you. And none of them live here with me."

"Pleasure girls." Sam pressed out, obviously grasping thin air now.

"None of which have enchanted me as your brother has."

"But… He’s a _man_."

Castiel held up a hand and Sam quieted immediately. " _That_ , of all things, is not an argument I will suffer. And I do believe you are already aware of your brother’s preferences or you wouldn’t be having quite this conversation with me. Sam," he fixated the man with his most serious stare and Sam straightened. "I will have your brother as my paramour, if he will have me."

"If he…" Sam tasted the word for a moment and Castiel leaned back with a smile.

"Are we done for today? Will you permit Dean to follow his own decisions starting tomorrow?"

It was of course condescending of him to talk like that but he was bitter that he hadn’t been met with Dean’s beautiful visage today, as he had hoped. Still, this conversation was important, he supposed.

"He will live here?" Sam asked and Castiel nodded.

"I would prefer it but I have yet to offer it, fearing it would be too much for him. He loves you and your home very much." He picked up a piece of fruit and popped it in his mouth to chew on it thoughtfully for a moment. "I will ask him next time I see him." He stated then and Sam nodded. "And I will keep sending you food as compensation for having stolen your brother away."

"I only ask," Sam was looking down at his fists when Castiel looked over to him. "I only ask that you are honest with him, Your Grace. Please treat him kindly."

Castiel’s eyes softened. "I would rather sacrifice the kingdom than hurt your brother."

  
  


#### VIII

  


Dean’s thighs shook as he slowly lifted himself and then lowered himself back down on the King’s hard and heated cock. They had barely started and he was already sweating, his hole clenching around the King every time he rose, as if his body wanted the man inside more than anything else. Dean couldn’t argue with that.

"I can’t believe." He gasped, his hands gripping tightly against the King’s heaving chest. King Castiel was sweaty as well and he smelled deliciously. "I can’t believe how good it is."

The King chuckled and Dean wanted to drown in the sound. "You are wonderful." He murmured and caressed Dean’s quivering hips as they continued their slow pace.

The bed they were sharing was lush and soft and made them bounce on particularly hard thrusts. The room around them was dark and quiet save for their mingling pants and Dean arched his back every time the King hit that special spot inside of him.

Dean’s own dick was hard and weeping all over the King’s stomach but neither of them were touching him as of yet. Dean wanted to but at the same time not. He was loving the feeling of the King’s heat inside of him and he knew that if he touched himself he wouldn’t last more than a couple of moments and he wanted this to last forever.

This was the first time they had done this and he wanted to make it good for his King, even if Dean could hardly think right now. His mouth was hanging open and he was almost drooling, too aroused to be self-conscious about it.

"This is a s-sin." He moaned and watched with heavily lidded eyes how the King nodded.

"Some say that."

"Will the Lord condemn us?"

King Castiel smiled kindly and gripped Dean’s hips harder, starting to meet Dean’s movements with his own thrusts. All semblance of consciousness flew out of Dean’s mind when the King held him down and forced himself up into Dean’s willing body.

"Maybe he will." King Castiel grunted and Dean was barely hearing him. "But even if he does I will follow you to Hell, Dean. I will never leave you."

"Yes." Dean moaned, hardly aware of what he was saying.

All he could think about was the King’s impressive cock drilling into him. Faster, harder, deeper.

Suddenly King Castiel flipped them around and Dean moaned again as the King pressed him into the mattress and gripped him hard, really starting to pound into him. Dean wrapped his legs around the older man’s waist and his arms around the King’s shoulders.

King Castiel moaned too, then. "Dean, I’ve never met anyone like you. You consume me."

Dean had no way of answering with his pleasure robbing him of any thought like this. He nibbled at the other man’s pulse and it made the King’s cock jump inside Dean. He practically wailed when the heated cock hit his pleasure spot again.

His own hard manhood was trapped between them now and the friction that the King’s powerful thrusts brought made him see little black spots. His release was suddenly so imminent that he felt gut punched with it.

"My King." He gasped and clenched harder around the older man. "I n-need to—I _have to_ …"

"Oh yes." The King responded and nuzzled Dean’s neck. "Release for me, my sweet boy."

Dean screamed his King’s name as his cock flooded the space between them and to his immense pleasure he could feel the other man’s cock as it too erupted, deep inside of him.

And yet the sweetest thing was the way Castiel breathed Dean’s name as his release overtook him. Reverently, softly, lovingly.

  
  



End file.
